


The Ogre and the Knight

by Gigi_Sinclair



Category: Brideshead Revisited (2008), Brideshead Revisited - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-19 07:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gigi_Sinclair/pseuds/Gigi_Sinclair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He may be the dregs of humanity now, shivering in a filthy hovel begging for a few francs for his next drink, but Sebastian was once a princess. Kurt can tell."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ogre and the Knight

Men like Sebastian always have friends. Friends to encourage them, friends to indulge them, friends to fuck them, friends to love them. Friends to come for them. If there's one thing Kurt has learned since his life went to hell, it's that. 

Men—a certain type of men—flock to the Sebastians of the world. He may be the dregs of humanity now, shivering in a filthy hovel begging for a few francs for his next drink, but Sebastian was once a princess. Kurt can tell. With that posh accent and that pretty face and that stupid fucking teddy bear, he must have had men queued up down the street. Men like Charles Ryder. White knights in fucking panama hats falling over themselves to save him from Moroccan dragons and ogres like Kurt.

Kurt has spent the last year in agony, pain always present behind the fog of alcohol the way the sun is always present behind the clouds. His interest in sex has withered and died. He can barely remember what it's like to want it, to crave it, to be willing to risk everything for a taste of it. He tries, though, once Charles Ryder has left on his quest. Kurt imagines Ryder and Sebastian in bed, presumably not in the hospital but in some bright, clean hotel where Ryder has no doubt procured a room much better suited to Sebastian's recuperation. Kurt pictures Sebastian with his mouth around Ryder's cock, grateful beyond measure that Ryder has saved him from the horrible fate of sharing Kurt's company. Sebastian would be grateful, Kurt thinks. He doesn't belong here.

Sebastian never speaks of his past, of where he came from, but Kurt isn't blind. He can tell from Sebastian's soft, white hands and big, innocent eyes that he arrived here understanding hardship no more than Kurt understands the women shrieking in Arabic beneath his window. Perhaps, Kurt thinks, his imagination running wild, Sebastian even came here after a lovers' tiff, some dramatic, over-the-top gesture meant to bring Ryder running. Sebastian seems the type to go in for that sort of thing, the queen who throws her glove into the lion's cage and demands her beloved retrieve it. Ryder seems like just the sort of man to unlock the door.

Kurt is not that type of man. Neither was Heinrich. Their love was never a game, it was never crass. It was pure and true, the purest, truest thing Kurt has ever known, and Kurt doesn't know how to begin to face life without him. He's been in hell for a year now, and he still doesn't know. Sebastian was a distraction, for a while. Sebastian's mother's money was even better, but both are gone now and Kurt doubts he'll see them again. 

“Tell him I'm still here,” Kurt tells Ryder, but he has no expectation Ryder will do it. Instead, he looks into Sebastian's purse—empty, of course—and wonders how much he might get for the gramophone and the teddy bear.


End file.
